


No such thing as permanent calm

by oncetherelivedaboy



Series: The Dysfunctional Marriage of John and Alexander [4]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, This is not by any means a healthy relationship, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7846081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncetherelivedaboy/pseuds/oncetherelivedaboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The house is quiet, and it's excruciating. He swears the silence will burn a hole through his mind, taunting him, over and over again.<br/>He’d spent a good hour in the driveway, forcing himself to get up, wrapped himself in their comforter, dragging it downstairs, still sniffling as he curled up on the couch. He watched the door for a while, surely he’d come back, that he’d drive around a block and come back and that it wasn’t over. He fell asleep like that, waking up hours later, with his ribs aching and his chest tight.</p><p>Continuation of Let Go</p>
            </blockquote>





	No such thing as permanent calm

The house is quiet, and it's excruciating. He swears the silence will burn a hole through his mind, taunting him, over and over again. 

He’d spent a good hour in the driveway, forcing himself to get up, wrapped himself in their comforter, dragging it downstairs, still sniffling as he curled up on the couch. He watched the door for a while, surely he’d come back, that he’d drive around a block and come back and that it wasn’t over. He fell asleep like that, waking up hours later, with his ribs aching and his chest tight.

He kicked the table, again. Sent the coffee cup there to the floor, shattering against the hardwood, dark liquid seeping between the cracks. He screamed, and he yelled, and he threw books across the room, he tore his foot open on the cracked ceramic of the mug, blood mingling with the coffee on the floor. He stomps up the stairs, leaving bloody footprints on the carpet and he tore the dressers apart, John’s clothes going flying, he threw open the window the wedding photo tight in his grip, ready to fling it like a frisbee into the front yard. He crumbled to his knees under the window, his heart in his throat, sucking in deep breaths as the tears fell in sheets upon sheets.  He fumbled with his phone as he sat on the floor of the bedroom, calling, over and over and over again. It went to voicemail each time. 

It lasted 3 days, Alex didn’t leave, he’d done a crude bandage on his foot, hadn’t been able to work, hadn’t changed his clothes. His chest ached from the binder, made it hard to breathe after such a long time. He wondered it you could die from something like that, perhaps they’d find his body, and John would be called in to ID him, then he’d feel bad about leaving. He’d be sorry then. 

He was asleep when the back door creaked open, and John climbed the stairs, wary of the red splatters there, found Alex curled up around a pillow in the bedroom. He woke when the lights flickered on, and he just stared at the figure in the doorway for a long time, and then John approached him, catching sight of the bandage on his foot. He took a seat at the end of the bed, and slowly unwrapped the bandage, sighing when he reached the skin, Alex wincing as the dried blood was pulled at. John frowned at it, glancing back up at Alex, and then got back up, headed to the bathroom and returned with the first aid kit, using a cotton ball to swab alcohol over the wound, Alex wincing every so often. John wrapped the wound with a clean bandage. He helped him out of the t-shirt and jeans, pulled the binder over his head, shook his head when he saw the red lines all along his chest and then the t-shirt went back on. Neither of them spoke. John ran a hand over the short hair on Alex’s scalp and Alex’s hand came to rest on John’s jaw, thumb scraping across his lips. 

He leaned into the touch, until he was pressed against John, his head on his shoulder, and his face buried in his neck. John barely reacted to him, was shaking himself, Alex pretended it was only the cold he was was shaking at, the window open and blowing the winter air into the house. He grabbed the blanket, pulling it around his shoulders and wrapping John in it with him. 

“Please don’t leave again.” John didn’t respond, but his arms moved to wrap around Alex, pulled him in tight and kissed his head. Alex trying to get as close as possible, to breathe in the scent of hotel shampoo, and hospital disinfectant that seemed to linger no matter how many times he showered. 

When they finally moved it was because John got up to close the window, and drag Alex down the stairs, ignoring the blood on the steps and the mess in the living room, sat him down at the counter and dropped some bread into the toaster. Disappearing back into the living room with cleaning supplies after he put a pot of water on to boil. He heard the back door open and close, wanted to scream as he tore out of the kitchen, opening the door and looking around to see, nothing. He was gone, again. 

“You bastard!” He shouted. “You fucking…” John came around the corner, eyes pointed and glaring, trash bag still in hand. Alex huffed and headed back inside just as the toast popped, startling him. He took them out, spread the butter on like a robot, waiting for John to come back inside, dropping the duffel he’d taken a few days prior next to the door, joined Alex in the kitchen. 

John put the things away and went to get the tea bags, stretching to reach the cabinet and Alex wrapped his arms around his waist in that moment. John tensing for a moment, the box of tea hitting the counter, and then relaxing into the touch. Alex going on tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck, and John turned to peck the top of his head, dropping the tea bags into mugs and then turning so that he wrap Alex in his arms. This was how they were, ready to rip the others head off one minute, and then this, swaying in the kitchen as they waited for their tea, the next. John knew it wasn’t healthy, knew it was far from it, but he’d been with Alex for so long, he had no idea what to do with himself without him, and Alex needed someone, and that someone was John because he’d been the only one willing to put up with him 

Alex hummed against his throat, mouth pressed there softly, as the kettle whistled and John poured the water into the mugs, and they sat at the counter and ate their toast and drank their tea, and they knew tomorrow it’d be bad again, whether it was actually tomorrow, or the next week or the next month, they both knew the calm wasn’t permanent. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is oncetherelivedaboy.tumblr.com if you have any requests or want to chat.


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